"Well, I don't know," was the slowly given reply.
"It's a possibility, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," broke in Professor Bumper. "But
what if it is? We might as well trust him, and
if he proves true, as I believe he will, we'll be
so much better off. If he proves a traitor we'll
only have lost a few days, for if he doesn't come
back we can go on again in the way we started."

"But that's just it!" complained Tom. "We
don't want to lose any time with that Beecher
chap on our trail."

"I am not so very much concerned about him,"
remarked Professor Bumper, dryly.

"Well, because I think he'll have just about
as hard work locating the hidden city, and finding
the idol of gold, as we'll have. In other words
it will be an even thing, unless he gets too far
ahead of us, or keeps us back, and I don't believe
he can do that now.

"So I thought it best to take a chance with this
Indian. He would hardly have taken the trouble
to come all the way back, and run the risks he
did, just to delay us a few days. However, we'll
soon know. Meanwhile, we'll take it easy and
wait for the return of Tolpec and his friends."

Though none of them liked to admit it, Ned's
words had caused his three friends some anxiety,
and though they busied themselves about the
camp there was an air of waiting impatiently for
something to occur. And waiting is about the
hardest work there is.

But there was nothing for it but to wait, and
it might be at least a week, Professor Bumper
said, before the Indian could return with a party
of porters and mules to move their baggage.

"Yes, Tolpec has not only to locate the
settlement," Tom admitted, "but he must persuade the
natives to come back with him. He may have
trouble in that, especially if it is known that he
has left Jacinto, who, I imagine, is a power among
the tribes here."

But there were only two things left to do--wait
and hope. The travelers did both. Four days
passed and there was no sign of Tolpec. Eager-
ly, and not a little anxiously, they watched the
jungle path along which he had disappeared.

"Oh, come on!" exclaimed Tom one morning,
when the day seemed a bit cooler than its
predecessor. "Let's go for a hunt, or something!
I'm tired of sitting around camp."

"Bless my watch hands! So am I!" cried Mr. Damon.
"Let's all go for a trip. It will do us good."

"And perhaps I can get some specimens of interest,"
added Professor Bumper, who, in addition to being
an archaeologist, was something of a naturalist.

Accordingly, having made everything snug in
camp, the party, Tom and Ned equipped with
electric rifles, and the professor with a butterfly
net and specimen boxes, set forth. Mr. Damon
said he would carry a stout club as his weapon.

The jungle, as usual, was teeming with life,
but as Ned and Tom did not wish to kill wantonly
they refrained from shooting until later in the
day. For once it was dead, game did not keep
well in that hot climate, and needed to be cooked
almost immediately.

Professor Bumper found plenty of his own
particular kind of "game" which he caught in the
net, transferring the specimens to the boxes he
carried. There were beautiful butterflies, moths
and strange bugs in the securing of which the
scientist evinced great delight, though when one
beetle nipped him firmly and painfully on his
thumb his involuntary cry of pain was as real
as that of any other person.

"But I didn't let him get away," he said in
triumph when he had dropped the clawing insect
into the cyanide bottle where death came painlessly.
"It is well worth a sore thumb."

They wandered on through the jungle, taking
care not to get too far from their camp, for they
did not want to lose their way, nor did they want
to be absent too long in case Tolpec and his
native friends should return.

"Well, it's about time we shot something, I
think," remarked Ned, when they had been out
about two hours. "Let's try for some of these
wild turkeys. They ought to go well roasted
even if it isn't Thanksgiving."

"I'm with you," agreed Tom. "Let's see who
has the best luck. But tone down the charge
in your rifle and use a smaller projectile, or you'll
have nothing but a bunch of feathers to show
for your shot. The guns are loaded for deer."

The change was made, and once more the two
young men started off, a little ahead of Professor
Bumper and Mr. Damon. Tom and Ned had
not gone far, however, before they heard a strange
cry from Mr. Damon.

"A tiger!" ejaculated Tom, as he began once
more to change the charge in his rifle to a larger
one, running back, meanwhile, in the direction
of the sound of the voice.

There were really no tigers in Honduras, the
jaguar being called a tiger by the natives, while
the cougar is called a lion. The presence of these
animals, often dangerous to man, had been indicated
around camp, and it was possible that one had been
bold enough to attack Mr. Damon, not through hunger,
but because of being cornered.

And so it was, at first glance. For it was a
giant iguana, one of the most repulsive-looking
of the lizards. Not unlike an alligator in shape,
with spikes on its head and tail, with a warty,
squatty ridge-encrusted body, a big pouch beneath
its chin, and long-toed claws, it was enough
to strike terror into the heart of almost any one.
Even the smaller ones look dangerous, and this
one, which was about five feet long, looked
capable of attacking a man and injuring him. As
a matter of fact the iguanas are harmless, their
shape and coloring being designed to protect them.

"Just take your club and poke it out of the way,"
the young inventor advised. "It's only waiting
to be shoved."

"Then you do it, Tom. Bless my looking glass,
but I don't want to go near it! If my wife could
see me now she'd say it served me just right."

Mr. Damon was not a coward, but the giant
iguana was not pleasant to look at. Tom, with
the butt of his rifle, gave it a gentle shove,
whereupon the creature scurried off through the brush
as though glad to make its escape unscathed.

"I thought it was a new kind of alligator," said
Mr. Damon with a sigh of relief.

"Where is it?" asked Professor Bumper, coming
up at this juncture. "A new species of alligator?
Let me see it!"

"It's too horrible," said Mr. Damon. "I never
want to see one again. It was worse than a
vampire bat!"

Notwithstanding this, when he heard that it
was one of the largest sized iguanas ever seen,
the professor started through the jungle after it.

"We might take the skin," answered the
professor. "I have a standing order for such things
from one of the museums I represent. I'd like
to get it. Then they are often eaten. We can
have a change of diet. you see."

"We'd better follow him," said Tom to Ned.
"We'll have to let the turkeys go for a while.
He may get into trouble. Come on."

Off they started through the jungle, trailing
after the impetuous professor who was intent on
capturing the iguana. The giant lizard's progress
could be traced by the disturbance of the
leaves and underbrush, and the professor was
following as closely as possible.

So fast did he go that Ned, Tom and Mr.
Damon, following, lost sight of him several
times, and Tom finally called: